Title: India@100 – Envisioning Tomorrow’s Economic Powerhouse
Author: Krishnamurthy Subramanian
Publisher: Rupa Publications, 2024 (First)
ISBN: 9789390260836
Pages: 497
India’s stature on international platforms post-independence was that of a pygmy because of its poor economic clout. Jawaharlal Nehru, our first prime minister, self-delusively believed that the circus he set up – called Non-Aligned Movement – would guide the world into new paths in international relations. But the plain fact was that nobody took any serious note of a block of nations which struggled even to feed its people. The stark truth in global power dynamics is that unless you are economically well off, you are nothing. At the most, a poor country can hope to be a pawn in the power play and get some crumbs off the table. After the 1991 reforms, India grew in size financially and she is perceived as such by the great powers. Trump’s additional tariffs for India’s purchase of Russian oil is an unwilling recognition of this truth. The country is on its way to become viksit (fully developed) by 2047, when it celebrates a century of political independence. The 2047 target has catalysed policy formulations at the government level and a distinct push towards that goal is clearly perceptible in the economy. This book explores the strategies India must pursue to achieve the target of 8 per cent growth in the next two decades to reach the target of a 55 trillion-dollar economy when India is at 100 in 2047. The book suggests the four pillars of macroeconomic focus on growth, inclusive growth for a large middle class, ethical wealth creation and a virtuous cycle ignited by private investment. The entire book illustrates these four concepts in good detail. Krishnamurthy V. Subramanian is an executive director of the IMF and professor at the Indian School of Business (ISB). He was the chief economic advisor to the government of India from 2018 to 2021. He was born in a Tamil family.
To be able to see the country blossom into the dawn of developed status in one’s lifetime is an unalloyed bliss for any citizen. Subramanian makes a painstaking analysis of the factors which guide this transition. Its greatest asset as the most populous country in the world is the people itself. Fortunately for us, India has entered the demographic phase in which a large share of the population is working age – between 15 and 64. India will remain in this demographic dividend zone for over two decades. In 2011, the working age population was 50.5 per cent of the overall; in 2041, it is expected to raise to 60 per cent. The author’s estimation of reaching 55 trillion dollars in 2047 looks like the height of optimism, because some reputed rating agencies approximate the size to only half of this figure. However, the author is quite persistent and fairly convinced that the country can achieve this goal if it necessarily grows the GDP at a rate of 8 per cent per year for the next two decades. India is at the position where China was in 2007. They grew at 7.7 per cent thereafter for 16 years. Given India’s demographic dividend, it has the potential to achieve similar growth rates, provided there is a supportive economic policy. Another factor which can help make the switch is that about half of India’s economy is still informal. Formalization of this sector can provide growth through productivity improvement.
The book discusses about some of the blunders of India’s socialist-era economic policy promoted by Nehru and Indira Gandhi and dismantled by P V Narasimha Rao. A relic of this socialist era is the perception that creation of wealth is somehow immoral and evil. This mindset still remains in some of the influential circles and must be shed, the sooner the better. India must also boldly jettison anachronistic ideologies about the large and pervasive role of the state as the provider of employment and producer of goods. Except for some strategically critical sectors, where the state’s role cannot be ceded to the private sector, the government needs to get out of business to enable better business. Subramanian also advises the government to adopt protectionist measures if it would help local industry even at the cost of stoking ire on the part of developed nations. Before attaining economic advancement, these same advanced countries used the same insular policies for which they shun the developing economies now. In the present day itself, when they face financial difficulties, they resort to the same tariff- and non-tariff-barriers in trade. This book was written last year in 2024, but Trump’s tariffs vindicated this prophecy. The author also calls out overzealous thrust for equity which is prevalent in social circles. While we desire an equitable society, excessive redistribution can dull incentives. In most cases, inequality of opportunity is much more objectionable than inequality of outcomes. Perfect equalisation of outcomes after the efforts have been exerted to obtain those outcomes, can reduce individual’s incentives for work, innovation and wealth creation. Inequality is not poverty; in fact, increase in inequality is most often accompanied by reduction in poverty. This book suggests that poverty alleviation through growth should be India’s central strategy. High growth rate will lead to lower debt-to-GDP ratio. So, government should borrow more to fund investments in digital, physical and human capital, where the human capital encompasses investments in healthcare and education. The directive to borrow more may run counter to established wisdom in this regard.
Subramanian was chief economic advisor of India in the Covid period and it is natural that he reminisces about it and brags a little about his achievements in that difficult and unprecedented period. India’s economic policy during the Covid 19 disruption is compared to its response to the 2008 global financial crisis. The Covid response was well-conceptualized and ab initio for the needs of the economy rather than a copy-paste of policies implemented by advanced nations. This was not so in 2008 and that was why India soon ended up in the ‘fragile five’ list by 2013. The author also advises about the Middle Income Trap which is usually encountered by rapidly expanding less-developed countries in their stride. This arises when fast-growing economies experience rising wages and struggle to sustain an economy that is based on labour-intensive manufacturing and export-led growth. However, he finds a ray of hope through which India might evade this trap. The productivity improvements driven by reforms suggest that the necessary conditions for avoiding the middle-income trap is being fulfilled in India. This is because India’s growth since the 1990s manifested more from growth in capital and productivity, with labour contributing very little. However, it may produce other problems such as an exacerbating inequality in societies and may create fault lines. The final two sections of the book are dedicated to healthcare and education that should develop a labour force which will take India to prosperity.
The author looks into every aspect of the economy and administration and suggests sweeping reforms in many sectors which would ease the way to India@100. The suggested judicial reforms skip all contentious issues regarding the appointment of judges. To clear pending cases and to ensure a 100 per cent clearance ratio of new cases, he suggests that more judges are to be appointed. The book recommends movement of professionals from private sector to middle-level government bureaucracy and vice versa. The government should simplify the regulations and allow some discretion in decision-making. Ex-ante accountability and ex-post supervision should be strengthened. The book also calls for agricultural reforms that benefits the small, marginal farmers who constitute 85 per cent of the households. The vocal minority of rich farmers in Punjab and Haryana earn most of the government’s largesse. These vested interests oppose real farm reforms. Profits of these farmers are also tax-free as agricultural income is not taxed. It is obvious that this observation was formulated in the wake of the repeal of government’s farm laws in response to the high profile agitation engineered by the rich farmers around Delhi. It is also suggested to relax restrictions on agricultural land conversion for alternate uses. Currently, these restrictions depress the value of agricultural land and pose obstacles to transitioning out of agriculture. This rule prevents other types of land to be converted to farm use. Aggressive privatisation of public sector enterprises is advised because it unlocks the potential of PSEs to create wealth.
It’s a no-brainer that private enterprise should be encouraged to the maximum to bring out the best in the economy and to reach fully developed status by 2047. The author makes some prescient observations in this regard. Private investment is the key driver that drives demand, creates capacity, increases labour productivity, introduces new technology, allows creative destruction of uncompetitive enterprises and generates jobs. India’s economic prosperity till the eighteenth century and her economic progress post-liberalization in 1991 demonstrate that the secret to sustained prosperity lies in enabling private enterprise in sectors where government has no business to be in business. A policy stance in favour of competitive markets and free enterprise – in short, pro-business – is often confused with a pro-cronyism stance. Competition will lead to creative destruction of some companies and generate more wealth for the whole sector. When creative destruction is fostered, sectors as a whole will always outperform individual companies within the sector. R&D investment is another area that needs to be strengthened. India’s R&D expenditure at 0.65 per cent of GDP is very low as compared to 2.5 – 3 per cent of advanced economies, primarily because of the disproportionately lower contribution from business sector. Government alone does the heavy lifting in this field and this should change. Manufacturing is also an essential sector India must accord priority to. Higher wages and lower uncertainty in this sector increase aggregate consumption more than service sector jobs.
Frankly speaking, this books flies over the heads of most readers who are not so familiar with the vocabulary of macroeconomics. The author uses a top class methodology of sophisticated charts and diagrams to prove the truth in his line of thought. These diagrams are too small in most cases and monochrome print has robbed some of its relevance. These look best if presented on to a big screen in full colour display. The publisher could have set up an online resource page to access these diagrams dynamically and in higher resolution so that some of the readers could follow through the argument. This book targets pragmatic administrators, visionary politicians and patriotic influencers who want to bring in change for the better. The targets Subramanian has chosen are very ambitious and there is every likelihood that they may be missed. Still, getting somewhere ahead and within a short range of the ultimate aim would itself be a tremendous achievement that will transform the lives of Indian society for the better.
The book is recommended.
Rating: 3 Star
Title: Who is Raising Your Children? – Breaking India Using Its Youth
Author: Rajiv Malhotra, Vijaya Viswanathan
Publisher: BluOne Ink, 2025 (First)
ISBN: 9789365470673
Pages: 438
India’s education system has changed itself completely within the span of a generation. ‘Spare the rod and spoil the child’ was the motto of parents and teachers while I was in school. Of course, there were some teachers who spared the rod but still inspired their students. But such students were generally having better academic credentials anyway. Overall, corporal punishment generally helped all categories of students to perform better. When the rod was taken out of the system and scolding itself became a taboo, the academic standards collapsed. To masquerade this fall, the rigour of exams was loosened and marks were granted liberally, and often undeservingly, to show a decent score when the student was unable even to read and write. This is the present condition of Indian schools. These so called ‘reforms’ occurred under the watchful supervision and sometimes funding by international organisations which had their own motives which did not often align with our national ethos. This book neatly summarizes the hidden dangers and deceptive threats the children and youth of the country faces. The situation is likened to the story of Aghasura in the Bhagavata Purana. Just as Aghasura disguised his lethal intent with an innocent and appealing appearance to lure the children into his mouth to devour them, many dark forces are currently cloaked in benign forms. Developing skills of literacy, reading and numeracy along with character development were the objects of traditional education. This has totally given way to an education that is used as a tool to raise a generation of children who are oversexualized, unemployable, angry at the prevailing structures and driven by a sense of entitlement. Rajiv Malhotra needs no introduction. Three of his books – Breaking India, The Battle for Sanskrit and Academic Hinduphobia – were reviewed earlier here (click on the title to read review). Vijaya Viswanathan is a mechanical engineer having global experience in manufacturing and finance. As a co-founder of Agasthya Gurukulam, she leads initiatives on an educative system centred on Indian heritage.
The authors identify Marxist ideology as the motive force behind all kinds of wayward experiments in the field of education. Marxism started out by targeting only the economic exploitation, then expanded to include cultural exploitation and now gender is claimed to be an institution of exploitation. For them, gender is not a biological characteristic but rather a social construct which is not fixed at birth. Incentives are liberally provided for those willing to explore or experiment with one’s own gender. It has become a factory to mass produce trans-people. The international agencies in this field are funded by powerful oligarchs like the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, George Soros’ Open Society Foundations and many Western governments. They psychologically manipulate the youth of the world. Marxists believe hegemonic social structures reproduce itself following the educational methods designed by the oppressors and strive to undermine them. They teach students to dismantle the existing power structures through dissent, activism and resistance. However, the authors do not clarify the discrepancy of why capitalist barons like Soros or Gates fund the Marxist ideology.
The trap set by this clique is primarily intended to change sex education into methods by which they can manipulate the content and influence the outcome. Traditional sex education handled issues such as sexual hygiene, abstinence, prevention of sexually transmitted diseases and prevention of unwanted pregnancies. UN’s Comprehensive Sexuality Education (CSE) coupled with Social Emotional Learning (SEL) anticipates on the other hand enjoyment and fulfilment of sexual desires in children, focus on treatment of sexually transmitted diseases rather than prevention, encourage abortion and disconnect children from cultural norms on risky sexual acts. Under the guise of diversity and inclusion, they want to introduce deviant sexual practices to children and de-criminalize paedophilia. UNESCO’s guideline is that human beings have sexual rights from birth! Organisations like International Planned Parenthood Federation are pressing the UN to modify the definition of human rights to include sexual right as a fundamental human right applicable equally to minors and even toddlers. They strongly oppose the POCSO Act in India which prescribes harsh punishment on sexual crimes involving minors. They deliver pornographic sex education through SEL and CSE programs to children as young as ten (p.114). These programs also try to encourage gender transition and abortions without informing the parents or mandating their consent.
The most damaging intervention made by woke educators is in confusing young children on gender issues. Woke social scientists declare that gender and sex are not biological fixities but only social constructs and therefore fluid. The dominant/oppressor group who has controlled society are responsible for the male/female binaries. They argue that this classification is wrong and children are taught that gender is a spectrum of maleness and femaleness with many combinative genders in between. Not only that, children are encouraged to explore the ways of behaviour of trans-people and are nudged to become one themselves. These organisations offer puberty blockers and create trauma in the lives of young people by pressuring them away from nature. Irreversible surgery to change sex are also dangled as carrots for young children, often keeping their parents in the dark. The author affirms that this is what is happening in the US at present and sooner or later it will arrive in India too. Women-only spaces like rest rooms are now being encroached upon with policies that permit men who identify as women in these areas. In sports, women have to compete with biological males who ‘identify’ as women. The author presents a comparison of China and India handling this UN-sponsored woke ideology. Jharkhand state in India is a willing partner of UN’s woke programs. They would do better if they look at Gansu province in China which is also mandated to facilitate these programs. China does not let global nexuses dictate how to run its health and educational institutions. UNESCO guidelines on CSE/SEL allow each country to tailor the guidelines to comply with their local laws. China quickly amended its child protection laws, added sixty new articles and made it impossible to exploit its children in the name of CSE/SEL. Numeracy and literacy skills are relegated as the most irrelevant in education of children and these skills are plummeting among school students. With such low basic literacy and math skills which resulted, the government should purge the education system of subjects that distract from basic learning, yet they are continuing to give priority to UN mandates. The woke ideologies undermine meritocracy, replace individual rights with identity politics, worsen divisiveness among groups and thwart academic freedom and free speech by adopting Cancel culture.
An unexpected takeaway from this book is its sharp accusation against the present government in India which is headed by a political party that is unabashedly nationalist and rightist. The authors claim that the National Education Policy (NEP 2020) was an effort to align India with Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs 2030) of the UN. Though it boasts of lofty ideals such as sustainable goals, the program is inspired by woke ideology and tries to make Indian children adhere to woke standards set by foreign institutions. The mandates and targets of SDGs 2030 are built into NEP 2020 (p.150). Moreover, NITI Aayog often employs foreign-funded NGOs as consultants to draft policies thereby outsourcing the government’s job to foreign entities (p.234). Programs like the Rashtriya Kishor Swasthya Karyakram is organized by the Health ministry and bypasses teachers to directly deliver sex education to children as part of CSE. They use mobile apps like Saathiya Salah to reach children directly circumventing parents. It also uses adolescents as peer educators for further reach which bypasses all persons of authority. Elite schools and programs follow this woke agenda and this prompts the authors to suggest declaring those educated in non-English medium as linguistically disadvantaged and a quota in jobs should be earmarked for them. The book quips that they are the oppressed and the English-educated as the oppressors, to pay the wokes back in the same coin. This book consistently urges Indians to emulate the deeds of China in resisting and fighting back the woke encroachment. China effectively strategizes proactively to protect its children, society and cultural values. On the other hand, India is scaling at a rapid pace and doing just the opposite by selling out its future generation (p.138).
The authors remind us that most major intellectual breakthroughs in history have been initiated by a small number of ultra-gifted pioneers. The obsessive focus on equity has neglected the value of gifted students. UN’s SDGs’ sole aim is to ensure that Indian children are advancing well in areas like human rights and global citizenship while literacy and math skills are deteriorating. This program intends the children to be made global citizens. However, this thrust is premature for the time being and facilitates illegal immigration to developed economies which is tolerated to an extent by people who are indoctrinated through the change in education which focussed on global citizenship. This book describes the Vedic philosophy of education as a model on which the Indian system should take root. The Vedic concepts of rtam, yajna and karma are explained in scientific terms, using the vocabulary and notions of modern science which might’ve had no resonance to the original Vedic line of thought developed several millennia ago. This is in fact a reintroduction of the original ideas borrowing or grafting on to the language of science. This exercise feels like old wine in a new bottle. Even then, there are some aspects of ancient thinking which don’t conform to modern consensus. The Vedic system’s deities are supposed to reside in other realms than space-time. In another instance, a new-born excelling in some field is suggested to be the result of a prior life’s samskaras (p.292). The author exclaims quite forcefully the need to focus urgently on the K12 (Kindergarten to 12th standard) system to arrest the rot being imported into India which is accelerating the ruin of an already failed education system for India and which will incorporate shastras and pedagogies relevant to a modern India.
The book follows a textbook-like structure with paragraph titles, bullet lists and numbered points. This becomes a drag on easy reading later on. The narrative refers to a multitude of organisations which are referred by acronyms and hence each page is filled in an alphabet soup. A large number of illustrative diagrams are included which look like salvages of a PowerPoint presentation – a number of presentations, to be precise. This would be very good if projected on to a large screen in full colour and at the same time explained by the presenter. But on a monochrome page, it looks out of place and often worthless. The authors maintain that the varna system in ancient India was based on individual talent and not by birth as in castes. So, on page 247, you’ll find a comment that ‘in India, it is the job of Kshatriyas to protect the rashtra’. If this is taken out of context, it would cause a serious allegation of casteism on the part of the authors. However, it is clearly stated elsewhere in the book that they mean the government by the term Kshatriya. The narrative is also unnecessarily elaborate and not a pleasant read. Somehow, somewhere, the authors lost their focus on external appropriation of our education system and concentrated on how a system rooted in Vedic learning is the best suited for India.
The book is recommended.
Rating: 3 Star
Title: The Lion and the Lily
Author: Ira Mukhoty
Publisher: Aleph, 2024 (First)
ISBN: 9788119635979
Pages: 456
The greatest contribution of Aurangzeb, the Mughal emperor, to India’s well-being was that he initiated the disintegration of the Mughal empire. Even though it managed to totter on for another 150 years after his death, its vitality was snuffed out and it served only as a punch bag for every adventurer. Close came the invasion and plunder of Nadir Shah and Ahmed Shah Durrani. These incidents devastated Delhi and impoverished the emperor. The regional Mughal governors in Hyderabad, Bengal and Awadh exploited this opportunity to the hilt and set up hereditary dynasties in these provinces. The English East India Company (EIC) was the other contender who utilized the chance to establish territorial power. The eighteenth century saw a series of wars around the globe between the colonial aspirations of Britain and France. The former lost a part of its colonial empire in American independence while France succumbed in all theatres of encounter. This sealed the fate of the French in India. Many French soldiers quickly changed sides and sold their military skill and services to native states who could remunerate them handsomely. The Nawab of Awadh was a patron of these European mercenaries. This book brings to centre stage the lives of the nawabs, begums, eunuchs and other lesser known players, in addition to the perspective provided by the involvement of certain French adventurers and soldiers. The ‘lion’ in the title refers to the Awadhi nawabs and ‘lily’ refers to the French royal banner fleur-de-lys (the lily flower) which was part of the French king’s heraldry. Two of Ira Mukhoty’s earlier books – Akbar: The Greal Mughal (read review here) and Heroines: Powerful Indian Women of Myth and History (read review here) – were reviewed here earlier.
The origins of the Awadhi nawabi is full of deception and treachery, but the author lets it pass without comment. However, she does not extend this courtesy to the Marathas or the British. Saadat Khan, who established the Awadhi line, was a cheat on the personal level and a traitor against the Mughal empire. The Mughals had successfully persuaded the Persian invader Nadir Shah to accept a measly war indemnity and return home. But Saadat Khan informed Shah of the vast treasures of emperor Muhammad Shah Rangeela and where it was hidden. Nadir Shah blew into Delhi like a tempest and killed almost 100,000 people till the city drains literally overflowed with blood of the slain. However, after appropriating the treasure, he humiliated Saadat Khan who immediately committed suicide by taking poison. The first Awadh Nawab was thus instrumental in helping Nadir Shah annihilate the very fabric of Mughal imperial authority. Saadat’s son-in-law Safdar Jung succeeded him on the throne. He paid Nadir two crore rupees to confirm his nawabi of Awadh. The helpless Mughal emperor had no other option than to accede to the invader’s command as a fait accompli. The funny part of the episode was that the name of the new nawab meant ‘Lion in war’! The next nawab, Shuja-ud-Daula, sided with the Afghan invader Ahmed Shah Durrani in his battle at Panipat against the Marathas. Such was the antecedents of the scions of Awadh and the author wants us to sympathise with them over their eventual loss of the kingdom to the British.
The book explains how the EIC consolidated their hold on power in north India by cashing in on the wrong policy decisions of the Mughals and their Awadhi vassals. Mughal emperor Shah Alam II and Shuja-ud-Daula lost the battle of Buxar to the British in 1764 who swiftly took possession of Allahabad and then Lucknow, the capital. Shuja would pay a crippling indemnity to the British to get the regions back. On his part, Shah Alam would sign away the right to collect taxes (diwani) of the provinces of Bengal, Bihar and Odisha to the Company. This was the single incident that spawned British colonial empire in India. England no longer needed to send bullion to India for trade. The most heinous part was that the nawabs sided with Britain when one of their vassals was engaged in a tussle with the British. Benares erupted in revolt against the EIC in 1781 under its governor Raja Chait Singh who was loyal to Asaf-ud-Daula. It was a forerunner of 1857 in the retributive spirit of the local troops. Asaf-ud-Daula, who followed Shuja to the throne, sent troops and money to the British. They crushed the rebellion in two months with this generous help. Even though a few loyal courtiers and the nawab had an extravagant existence with all pleasures life could offer at their disposal, the populace languished in miserable degeneracy. The author lets out some vague hints about these, but a pair of discerning eyes could easily penetrate the subterfuge and false praise heaped on the nawabs. Slavery was rampant in the province, both of the menial and sexual varieties. We read of an English architect named Anthony Polier purchasing an eight-year old girl and sending her as a ‘gift’ to a fellow European. When the girl’s father demurred, he threatened the helpless parent with the title-deed of the transaction (p.92)!
Mukhoty notes down the resurgence of Awadhi art under constant intermingling and rejuvenation from exposure to the finest European art. Jean Baptiste Gentil, who was the French Resident at Shuja’s court, wrote down his memoirs that provide us with a mirror of the high society in Awadh. He set up an art atelier and created the largest collection of art assembled by a single person in the province. British painters, starting from Telly Kettle, introduced European techniques to the local audience. It provided candour and recognisable immediacy. Painters trained in the Mughal tradition of the side profile struggled visibly with the full frontal format, the subjects often ending up with an unfortunate squint. Awadhi artists became deeply interested in light and shadow and the creation of volume and space. Mughal artists would thereafter follow the path of greater realism in their paintings. Culinary habits were refined to the highest level. Food became a matter of contestation between Mughal Delhi and nawabi Awadh. Delhi was famous for its biryani while Lucknow cultivated the pulao with infinitely many variations like gulzar, noor, koku, chameli and the like.
This review does not intend to be judgmental on the character of the nawabi aristocracy, but some points need to be mentioned, especially since the author consistently tries to downplay such unsavoury episodes if the Nawab is at fault. She is entirely hostile in the case of the English or the Maratha. An English traveller noted that Shuja was deceitful, unprincipled, bound by no laws divine or human and a tyrant in power (p.54). Even though this observation is nothing but the plain truth, the author blames the observer as being querulant. The first act of Shuja as Nawab was to abduct a beautiful Hindu Khatri woman. When a huge outcry was made, he returned her after a night in the palace (p.26). Mukhoty could have set this aside without any remark, but she stoops so low as to justify such transgressions as ‘the reaction of a boy who had once been powerless at his father’s harsh rendering of state affairs’. Was she an urdubegi (a matron who administers a harem for the pleasures of a domineering master) in a previous birth? Shuja was a licentious wretch who was fortunate to have an accommodating wife in Bahu Begum who ‘graciously’ accepted Rs. 5000 for each sexual transgression and forgave him (p.65). The author observes that she made a tidy sum of money! She became so rich – of course, by other sources as well – that she lent to the state when the need arose. The Europeans also shared the permissive ethos of the times at first. Many of them in high positions lived with Indian bibis and children from them. However, this baggage was usually shed when they returned home. William Dalrymple’s The White Mughals nicely illustrate this (read review here). Muslim governors often enslaved the children of Hindus whose families resisted his rule, emasculated the boys and then converted to Islam (p.161) like the Ottoman Janissaries. One such person, Jawahar Ali Khan, rose to the position of khwajasara (chief eunuch) of Bahu Begum and held great power in his hands. Quite naturally, such a degenerate society is bound to go downhill further. The book gives subtle hints of the elite slipping to effeminacy. The elite copied the nawab’s style and a type of male attire called the banka evolved which used kajal in the eyes and henna at the fingertips like women used to do (p.222).
Willingly or not, Awadh turned a cash cow for the British and financed all their needs. The nawabs demurred only when the British sought to control wasteful expenditure of the palace. Like a gang of robbers, both were more than willing to share the public money between themselves. It was only the ratio of split that was in contention. Asaf-ud-Daula’s tone gradually turned from one of generous largesse towards the fatherly governor general Hastings to one of wounded incredulity and finally to despair and hopelessness (p.180). Even with all this humiliation, he did not turn against them. Asaf always cozied up to the British even at the cost of self-respect. He sent 60,000 rupees along with a letter of congratulations to King George III on the king’s recovery from an illness. Out of this, half was to be paid to the king’s physician and the other was to be distributed as charity in England (p.225). He also helped the EIC by sending horses and baggage elephants in the company’s war against Tipu in the south. It is strange that the author still praises both these men! Asaf was so obsequious to the British that they viewed him with a sniggering disdain. A Britisher who was paid 1800 pounds a year with no work to do wrote to a friend in England about Asaf that he was brutal and an imbecile (p.318). The British who used Asaf for their purposes without any cover however evaluated the man as an ‘effeminate and debouched buffoon’ (p.218). But Mukhoty wants us to believe that he was ‘intelligent and full of vigour and energy’. British control of the state was total by the end of his reign. After Asaf’s death, his son Wazir Ali was initially chosen as the nawab, but the British immediately deposed him and instated his half-uncle Saadat Ali Khan who was earlier exiled to Benares. This was because he was so unpopular with the people of Lucknow, had no soldiers at his disposal and had no powerful supporters. An immense change came about in the attitude of Englishmen at this time. Earlier, EIC officials accepted the Awadhi world full of delicacy and grace with passionate enthusiasm. This changed to produce a generation of haughty men and women brash with a new confidence about their role and ‘civilizing’ mission. Evangelism also played a part in this transformation, but the author does not take this into account.
The nawabs were ardent Shias who are the followers of Ali, the Prophet’s cousin and fourth Caliph. They ostentatiously displayed Shia imagery and rituals and celebrated their festivals with great pomp. As can be expected, this became synonymous with the elite culture among nobility. Asaf built the grand monument of Bara Imambara in Lucknow to commemorate the martyrdom of Husayn, the Prophet’s grandson. This building cost 30 per cent of the annual revenue of the entire Awadh state. In addition, he spent extravagantly on overseas religious structures too. Enormous sums were expended in Iraqi cities which are holy to the Shias like Najaf and Karbala. He also paid for a canal to be dug to bring water to Najaf which is still known as the Asafiya or Hindiya Canal. Persian was admitted as the language of sophisticated poetry par excellence in the Nawab’s court. Poetry also flourished in mushairas and through courtesans. Persian phrases and idioms were self-consciously inserted into Lucknawi Urdu poetry in a process known as islah-i-zaban (correction of language). However, the society became ever more decadent with each passing year. The author ruefully admits that a great deal of Faizabad/Lucknow’s panache was built on elaborate chicanery and dissimulation.
This book is a good example of the diction that makes history books so appealing. I’m sure you will have to look up many words in the dictionary during reading as I myself had had to do. But let me assure you that the time spent on this effort is not at all wasted if you stop for a moment to ponder over the relevance and aptness of that particular word you just looked up. However, this flourish is not shared by the narrative which seems to be driven by an agenda to denigrate native Indian leaders and their actions. Mahadji Scindia, the Maratha leader who was the strongest power in India at that time, is always referred as a ‘Maratha warlord’ and nothing else. Meanwhile, Tipu Sultan of Mysore who had actually usurped power, is portrayed as a ‘warrior sultan’. This book also contains a short history of Tipu Sultan even though it is not relevant to the main topic. Is this because Mukhoty is genuinely thrilled by the antecedents of this most fiendish bigot in Indian history? Even Nadir Shah, who invaded, plundered and washed Delhi in a bloodbath, is described as ‘imposingly tall with flashing black eyes and a voice like thunder’ (p.15). This usurper is also eulogized as one who ‘staged a coup in Persia to depose the centuries-old Safavid dynasty’. But no such courtesy is ever extended to the Marathas. The author also paints all British narrative as inherently biased and hence unreliable. This is in fact an application of the cancel culture to history and is a flawed methodology. Almost all portrayals of Asaf-ud-Daula project the man as an ‘overweight, simpering fool; ridiculously pious, raunchy womanizer, effete homosexual, profligate wastrel and a miserly ruler’. This synopsis of Asaf which is borne out even by the author’s own narrative is assailed as a wilful character assassination by all the British authors who are separated not only by distance, but by time too. To counter this line of thought, she dips into French journals and diaries and reproduces the expected glorification of Awadhi nawabs and Tipu Sultan. In some instances, the author seems to be genuinely confused with some nicknames that are gained at the hands of a mute but critically appraising section of people. Emperor Muhammad Shah’s appellation of rangeela (colourful) was in fact pejorative, but Mukhoty thinks it is affectionate (p.18). This is really amusing, especially if you know why he was called rangeela, which is mentioned in some books on later Mughals.
This agenda-driven book is no better than a historical fiction. If you enjoy that genre, the book is recommended.
Rating: 2 Star
